The Race of a Lifetime: Chapter One

October 23, 2010
By Eer320 PLATINUM, S. China, Maine
Eer320 PLATINUM, S. China, Maine
20 articles 4 photos 39 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, hey girl, magenta! and she's like, oh, you mean purple! and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, no - I want magenta!"


Chapter One



Payton felt the wind blow through her hair, the breeze on her skin. It felt so good. She pressed her heels into Zephyr’s side, and their speed increased. She laughed. Zephyr turned her head back, and shook her long, sleek black mane.

They galloped up a hill, and came to a sudden halt. Payton looked down onto her mother’s giant ranch house. Pulled into the front courtyard was a black car, with a man in a tux leaning against it. Mom must have a visitor.

She raced all the way home, and it almost felt as if her and Zephyr were flying, her hooves stirring up tons of dirt. When she got to the ranch, she hopped off Zephyr, and let the reins fall to the ground, knowing a stable hand would come and fetch her.

As Payton sprinted through the door, she ran into a stiff woman wearing a suit. She looked up into the woman’s face. Her features were hard, and she had a slight, sly smile on her face.

“Ahhh, here they are!” Exclaimed her mother, from behind her.

Payton’s mother was a jewel. Her silky blonde hair was pulled back in a black ribbon, and her bangs were cut to right above her eyebrows. Her green eyes were like sea-glass, and she had freckles sprinkled lightly over the bridge of her nose. She was tall and lanky, and wore a riding outfit, with britches, a vest, the little tie scarf thing, and all.

“Were you looking for me?” Payton asked cooly. She was uneasy about this whole encounter. The other woman cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, where are my manners?” Payton’s mother said. “This is Miss King. She owns racehorses. She plans on buying from us.”

“Oh.” Payton flashed a smile at Miss King. Business was business. Especially since Payton received 10% of each sale for helping out in the stables.

But Miss King pushed past Payton, into the courtyard, where Zephyr was grazing on the grass between the bricks of the walk. She walked around her, as if inspecting Zephyr. Zephyr just stood there eating and eating.

“Now this here is a true racing horse, in fact, she was born to race!” Miss King sound very excited. “How much do you want for her?”

Payton’s heart stopped. She went cold with dread. “She’s not for sale!” Payton shouted, fear very much present in her voice.

“Payton, please.” Her mother soothed. Then she turned to Miss King. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“Mom! She is my horse!”

“Payton, go inside, we’ll talk later.” And she turned away, and led Miss King to her car. As she left, Payton heard her discussing a further meeting later.

But that was all Payton heard before she ran in, sprinted up the stairs, down a hall lined with pictures and horse shoes, and slammed the door to her room, tears flowing down her face before she even landed on the bed.



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